


Boston City Limits

by SymphonySoldier97



Category: Leverage, Leverage/Supernatural Crossover, Supernatural
Genre: Boston, Crossover, Fluff, Language, M/M, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 06:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4469540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SymphonySoldier97/pseuds/SymphonySoldier97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam likes Boston. </p><p>No. </p><p>He really, really likes Boston. </p><p>And Dean? Dean doesn’t get why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boston City Limits

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I just need Eliot Spencer for life and I decided that Sam Winchester does as well.

Sam likes Boston. 

No. 

He really, really likes Boston. 

And Dean? Dean doesn’t get why. It’s freakin’ cold in the winter, hot in the summer, and seriously? The beaches nearby are a fuckin’ joke, as far as Dean’s concerned. The sand is hot and the water’s freezing and he just can’t win. 

Every other week, it seems, Sam’s got them heading to Boston on some half-baked theory about ghosts or ghouls or vampires or whatever they haven’t killed recently. And really? Dean likes overabundance of orange fall leaves as much as the next guy, but c’mon, there is a limit. 

For the life of him, Dean cannot figure out what it is about Boston that’s getting Sammy all hot and bothered. Not only does Sam love going to Boston, he will actually do things in Boston. He will go out, announcing to Dean that he’s going to some poetry reading or some other nerdy shit without Dean saying a single word about Sam needing a life. If Sam wasn’t such a monk, Dean would swear that he’s got a girl there. 

He’d assume there was a girl there regardless, but honestly? It doesn’t seem like it. Sure, Sam always comes back happy and smiley, but he always comes back with evidence of where he’s been- i.e. exactly where he’d told Dean he’d be. Dean would know- he’s been going through his stuff every night they’re in Boston. Yeah, yeah, he’s knows it’s wrong and it’s “A serious breach of privacy, Dean!” and blah, blah, blah. Sam’s not stupid, and he’ll get Dean back for it something serious as all will be right with the world. 

Anyway, there’s no evidence that there’s-

Oh. There it is. 

Dean turns the program over in his hand, skimming the name of the coffee shop and the names of whatever obscure indie bands were playing there to get to the notes. “The shoes are the key with the real FBI agents. They look nice but they’re cheap as shit”

What the fuck does that even-

“Dean!” 

Dean nearly jumps out of his fucking skin. He drops the program and tries to breathe, scrambling to get on his bed before yelling back “What, Sammy?” 

“How did you manage to use every fucking towel? I swear to God,” 

He goes on, but all Dean can focus on is who the hell Sam’s been with that has such an intimate knowledge of every law enforcement agency in the world. What’s even more startling: that was most definitely a dude’s handwriting. What the fuck is even- 

“Are you even listening?” 

Dean manages to smirk up at his brother from his spot against the headboard. “Nope.” 

The next time they’re in Boston, Dean is prepared. He just has to find out who makes Sam fucking giddy to drive into a dirty, wet city in which he plans to deal with a witch. A witch! No hunter, in the history of the world- Dean is positive- has ever been excited to deal with a witch. 

Either Sam is gonna spill, or Dean is gonna make him. 

He starts out casually, slipping it into the conversation like it’s nothing. “Dude, what is it you love so much about Boston?”

Well, he tried to be subtle, anyway. 

Sam, for his part, remains completely unruffled. “What’s not to like?” 

Alright then. Looks like Dean is going to have to take matters into his own hands. 

By six o’clock, Sam already has plans. “It’s just a documentary about South African culture, Dean. Nothing that wouldn’t bore you to tears.” 

Dean would be offended, but well, the kid’s not wrong. In any case, Dean will be checking out this “documentary”. 

By seven, Sam’s out the door, and Dean’s three minutes behind him, having stood just outside the motel room to see which direction he left in. He feels skeevy, following Sam like this. But in all honesty? He genuinely is worried. He trusts Sam, but this feels strangely similar to the whole Ruby dilemma and look where that left them. 

The worry doesn’t really subside when Sam meets up with some long-haired brick wall of a guy in front of the little movie theater. Since when does Sam meet up with guys to go see documentaries? Since when does Sam hug said guy and then KISS HIM ON THE FUCKING LIPS?! 

The sight almost knocks Dean on his ass. He has absolutely no issue with Sam being gay, but damn, why didn’t his little brother just tell him? Is he not trustworthy? Has he not told Sam that’s he’s bisexual himself? Why would he-

“It’s weird, right?” 

If Dean makes it through the night without having an honest-to-God heart attack he’ll be extremely lucky. Beside him stands a tiny blonde chick, dressed all in black, and shaking her head as if her wayward toddler is eating crayons again. “Yeah, Eliot didn’t tell us, either. Boys are so weird! Especially Eliot. He’s always so punchy, but he gets mad when you punch him, you know?” 

She goes on, but at this point, Dean is doing well to keep his jaw from dropping like some sort of cartoon character. He’s met his share of crazy girls, but man, this one is something else. She just doesn’t. Shut. Up. Or, she hasn’t for the past five minutes, arms flailing, gesturing wildly as she tells some story about this “Eliot” guy beating someone up. 

“So. anyway, did you follow your guy here, too?” 

“Uh, yeah. My kid brother. Sam. Look, I gotta-” 

Before he can finish his excuse, the blonde has her arm tangled in his, dragging him towards the theater. “We have got to see this. Eliot is basically my brother, too, also, I’m Parker, by the way.” 

“Whoa, hold on, Parker-” 

Dean’s stopped, but Parker is still doing her best to bodily haul him into the building. “C’mon, Kyle, don’t tell me you’re gonna willingly miss this!” 

“Kyle?” He finally gives in and lets her drag him along. He actually does want to see Sam on his… date. For science, obviously. 

“Well, you didn’t tell me your name so I was forced to make one up. Duh.” 

Despite his protests, she drags him past the ticket window and straight in only to shove him into an alcove. “Wait here. When I say “pickles”, you go in.” 

“Wait-” He tries, but Parker is already gone, waltzing right up to the employee taking tickets. 

“Hi, there.” She giggles, and Dean can hear the look she’s giving him. “I’m Alice.” 

Dean rolls his eyes. She’s really going to try this? It isn’t but thirty seconds before Parker is already saying “Yes, but my cat, Pickles,” Against his better judgement, he follows her instructions. 

As soon as he’s out of sight, there’s a chipper “Well, bye!” and Parker is by his side again, tugging him around like a rag doll. 

The documentary has already started, the darkness of the room making it difficult to pick anyone out in the crowd, but Dean can spot his brother anywhere. A useful skill, he’s found, especially when it gives him license to grab Parker and tug her for a change. He can’t see her face, but he’s sure she’s glaring. The thought almost makes him grin. 

They crowd into seats a few aisles above Sam and Eliot, Dean pointing their targets out and Parker shushing him. “Be quiet, they’ll hear you!” 

“Oh yeah, cause you’re being so stealth right now!” 

“Stealth is what I do best!” 

“Yeah? Well, I wouldn’t quit your day job!” 

When Sam shifts in his seat to look behind him, they both freeze. After an eternity, he shrugs, turns back around and settles down to lay his head on Eliot’s shoulder. Parker snaps her head around to stare at Dean, who’s busy trying not to be angry. 

Who is this guy, anyway? Thinking he can put his arm around Dean’s brother? Thinking he can- oh God- kiss Dean’s brother’s forehead? Thinking he can just sit there and let DEAN’S LITTLE BROTHER KISS HIS NECK IN RESPONSE?! 

“Whoa, dude, chill.” Parker’s hand on his clenched fist brings him back to himself. “They’re just snuggling.” 

“Yeah, well your little Eliot is messin’ with my baby brother.” Dean grinds out. 

“Oh, Eliot’s not little. He’s actually really big and he likes to-” 

“Could you just shut the fuck up?!” 

Parker sniffs at him. “You don’t have to be mean, Kyle.” She snatches her hand back and crosses her arms. 

Dean huffs. “Of all the names in the world, you had to pick Kyle?” 

“If you’d stop being weird and tell me your name, I wouldn’t have to!” 

“Oh, I’m being weird?” 

“Yeah! And if you don’t shut up, they’re going to catch us!” 

All this whisper-screaming is starting to hurt Dean’s throat. That’s why he shuts up. Definitely not just because Parker told him to. 

And, okay, Sam does seem happy. His shoulders are relaxed, and every once in a while, when Eliot leans down to whisper in his ear, Sam shakes a little with laughter. It’s been a while since Dean’s seen Sam look this relaxed. 

So maybe the guy’s not all bad. Maybe. Which doesn’t mean Dean approves of him, mind you. It just means he’s… open to the consideration that perhaps this guy could possibly approach the status of being good enough for Sammy. Maybe. 

Parker has gone silent beside him, her attention held by the child two seats down who’s making a tower out of popcorn. If Sam and That Guy are gonna do this, Dean has a feeling he’ll be seeing a lot of Parker. If he doesn’t want to become Kyle… 

“Dean.” 

“What?” 

Dean pulls Parker away from the kid. She’s going to freak his mom out if she doesn’t knock it off. 

“My name is Dean.” 

“Oh.” Parker purses her lips. “I guess Dean is slightly better than Kyle. Maybe.” 

Dean gives her his best glare, but Parker is already gathering popcorn off the floor for her own tower. “Now, are you gonna help me build this?” 

Dean sighs, trying to look put upon. “Fine.” 

“Fantastic.”


End file.
